Julie Schell

Charm side planking.

Joe Stewart

You might be a dog owner if you spend ten minutes trying to identify which dog's nails are clicking on the floor and sheepishly discover it the sleet hitting the skylight.

Uschi Grewe

AJ showing off the basenji snuggle.

Yvonne 't Mannetje

The tough life of a basenji.... Hunting, visiting pigs, and then.... the bank testing or who is still pretty good.....

Karen Christensen did they pluck those hides at first? I'm worried mine'll shred if I get some. Haha reminds me when Selket and I visited a friend with one across the back of their couch. Selket very clearly told them they were using it wrong: she sat in front of it and stared at its owner while prodding it with her paw, until it was moved to the seating surface wherein she made herself comfy and bothered nobody the rest of their day. Friend was astounded, his dog had never paid attention to it - but had to agree, his dog not the brightest.

Yvonne 't Mannetje Some times they decide the hide has to be killed, have to stop Moyo plucking it then. But 98% of the time they love to sleep in it. Selket was a clever girl, very clever.

S K-M Gilda killed a rabbit.. sort of.

Yvonne 't Mannetje Oh yeah, that beast won't run anymore

Kim McNeill

In their native habitat, basenjis camouflage so well it can be difficult to spot them.

Cindy Griswold

Gotta love those heat seeking independent primitive dogs.

Jeanne Fitzsimmons

Karen Christensen

Subject: Devils and Angels
Date: 1/8/01 11:52 AM

We woke up late this morning; actually, they tried to get me up early (4:45) but I said "few more minutes" and it was 6:15 before they tried again.

Selket did not want to go for a walk, so I tucked her back into the house. Laser took me for a nice jog. About 3/4 of the way around, he stopped and pressed his shoulder against me and looked up at me, so I stopped to cuddle and pet him -- leetle Angel.

Selket did not greet us when we got back. I gave Laser the rest of his breakfast (good boy) and went to find the girldog who had not responded to my calls. Agh! The kitchen, living room, den and hallway were strewn with garbage! She had managed to nose open the very heavy step-on can, and was happily consuming roasted red pepper skins and cores, stale breadsticks, cheese wrappers, chocolate wrappers (I made brownies), garlic nubs, you name it. There were eggshells crumbled everywhere, and shredded paper towels soaked in doG knows what. Ick! Devil! I did a quick cleanup, and clamped down the corner of the trash can, then went to get dressed.

It was quiet, quiet, TOO QUIET -- and I thundered down the stairs to find Laser gleefully shredding and distributing the contents of several used tea bags I had missed in my cleanup effort. Squishy, cold tea leaves, everywhere. Tea leaves in his nostrils, and caked in his flews, and ground into the rug fringe, and scattered under the baseboards. Tea bag material jammed in his crooked little teeth. A leetle dirty-mouthed Devil. I yelled, "STOP!!" and he looked soooo guilty. I scooped him up and picked the tea bag and tea leaves out of his mouth and from between his toes, and brushed tea streaks off his neck, and cuddled him
and apologized for yelling and gave him lots of cuddles. I cleaned up the tea, then went and cuddled Selket, who was still sporting a pair of nubby little horns and a pointy tail as she reclined on the couch. No remorse, that one. I gave her a little lecture, and she sighed and looked at me very closely, to see if I had been eating anything she might have enjoyed.

Devils are just fallen angels -- and in my house, they don't stay down for long.

Love,

Moot & Selket

(whaddya want from a dog named after a goddess with a cobra on her head?)
and Rupert (I'm named after a southern barbecue king)
and Clancy (I'm not sure what Mom named me after, but I've become synonymous
with Naughty)
and Laser (no matter what Mom says, I'm a gooder boy)